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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788527">That's Just How I Like You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth'>mystic_hyacinth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tyushnakov Family Values [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work, Voltage Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Art on Second Chapter, Ass to Mouth, Bad Parenting, Biting, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Digital Art, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Family Drama, Family Reunions, Fanart, Father/Son Incest, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, Knotting, Lingerie, M/M, Manhandling, NSFW Art, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Pet Names, Revenge Sex, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Coercion, Spit As Lube</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:42:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_hyacinth/pseuds/mystic_hyacinth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieran has been gone for four years. Things are different now, they have to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Male Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Tyushnakov Family Values [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854673</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Today? An original work. Tomorrow? Who knows. Thank you to @maxkennedy24 on IG for the art (second chapter if you wanna see!). Max is in his mid-fifties and Kieran is about 22-ish, so no underage stuff here. </p><p> </p><p>Title is taken from "Hands Inside" by Ghosts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I should say it was weird coming home after all these years. Sure, I’d most likely flown over Shurshanov in my travels but I’d hardly stepped foot inside the country since I started at St C’s. I’m sure the country lamented me but if one of the sixteen million Shurshans had meant to send a ‘thinking of you’ card and a bouquet of flowers to my dorm, I could only assume that it had gotten lost in the mail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house felt the exact same as when I left. The floors still creaked in much the same way, the statues and paintings that lined each and every hallway were the same, if not looking a little worse for wear. All of the dogs seemed excited to see me once I’d come through the door, save for Ruble who was always more angry and neurotic than he was affectionate and our cat Mishka who had remained aloof until I’d bribed her with treats.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first night here I’d taken to walking the perimeter of the place, a few of the dogs in were tow just to see what was up. A lot of the storage rooms that had sat under blankets of dust and yellowing bed sheets had been cleared out completely, their carpets ripped up and their wallpaper torn down, but no sign of any updates whatsoever. The fridge in the scullery had been replaced and was at half the capacity it usually was. No mystery soups, no lemon squares, not even a half-empty packet of boba pearls, it was as if it lacked any of the personality it once had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried not to get too attached or mournful, it’s not like I was moving back home for good. It was just a few days to watch my baby sister turn eighteen, spend some time with her and jet back to Cologne in time for finals. If anything, I could use the quiet before the upcoming storm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I guess the only thing that unnerved me the most </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> that quiet. Being the first to arrive can always be awkward, but considering how everyone else was otherwise occupied, I couldn’t blame them for not having my willingness to show up so embarrassingly early. My Mum was inundated with exams to grade and wouldn’t be able to make the trip until the night before Nadia was supposed to arrive. Klem had been surprised with a spring break trip to Cancun with her (allegedly) long term girlfriend, some hybrid girl from New York who went by Asia. The last picture I’d received from her was a shot of a (thankfully) virgin pina colada and her girlfriend lounging by her feet, soaking up the Mexican sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know when she got home we’d have to properly celebrate all the years Klem spent sober and then let Mum drink herself into a stupor after all the professoring she’d been doing (and finals hadn’t even started yet) but for now I could only await them by myself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, not entirely. Vera had been keeping me company, sneaking in to help me unpack that first morning and even joining me for lunch in the garden (if the unpredictable weather that defined Shurshan springs held up long enough for us to inhale our food before the torrents could start again). She hadn’t aged a bit, though I suppose after more than one-hundred fifty years, four more seems like only a couple weeks. She told me how sometimes Nadia had taken to spending a couple weeks in her country home, helping out on the farm and tending to the ever-growing crop of newborns.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She tells me the city is so stifling and tedious, nobody does any real work and yet everyone needs a break.” Vera had said. I could only laugh because Nadia was nothing if not fidgety. She would love the city but couldn’t stand it for more than a few weeks. She loved the country but would grow bored of it in maybe less time. After a while she would grow tired of Shurshanov entirely and be gone to some other far-flung corner of the world before boredom caught up with her again and she was forced to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would make the time we spent together seem more fervent and full of urgency, but I longed for it nonetheless. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As for the Master of the House, he’d remained strangely absent and I’d hardly seen or heard him in the couple of days that I’d been home. Vera had told me that he hadn’t gone anywhere and had been planning Nadia’s party himself, some grand and boisterous affair that was probably more for himself than it was for her. Then again, she’s the only one of his plethora of children than he claims </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> cares for so I suppose a party marking doing those things for eighteen years had every right to devolve into a bacchanal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried to keep my thoughts occupied. Study for my exams when I could, work out some chords on my synth and see what I could use for my EP, all while thrumming with excitement at the prospect of spending the entire summer holed up in my studio at Mum’s place in Geneva. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>On night three, I’d taken to my bass - trying to see which of the few songs I’d written in the last couple weeks fit the riff I’d made and texting Klem on the side. She was half asleep, though Asia had insisted on getting up early to make the bus for the catamaran tour before it left the hotel. I could only laugh as she sent me a video of her girlfriend bustling around the room looking for her flip flops even if they were already on her feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>[[Sent from</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> me</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> at 19:42: she’s the love of your life tho]]</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>[[Sent from </em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em>Fleabag</em>
  </b>
  <b>
    <em> at 19:44: only on business days. No weekends or major holidays.]]</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I was still giggling to myself as I put my phone down and went back to my bass. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” asked a familiar voice from somewhere above me, nearly making me jump out of my skin and look up to see him properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As always, my Da’s eyes were sharp and intense, glaring down at me as if I was a pig he intended to slaughter. His face was framed by two stark white streaks on either side of his head, standing in contrast to the rest of his dark hair. The dress was tight, sleeveless and short, hugging his frame and leaving the only attempt at modesty to be the turtle neck embroidered with three yellow flowers. It had to have been a gift from Nadia or Dyadya, as he didn’t usually buy such simple pieces himself. I immediately recognized his tights as my work, he’d ask me to tear them intentionally for him years ago and I’m surprised the things had held up for so long despite looking like the leftovers from a moth buffet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked making entrances and he knew how to look good doing them, I’d give him that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Klem just texted me.” I said, noting the slight twitch in his eye when I said her name. I tried not to make it seem like seeing him after so long didn’t knock the wind out of me. I remembered how to play this old game, if I appeared weak or stupid he would just yank the rug out from under me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You still in school?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, “Yeah, doing really well, too. Aced my midterms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed barely amused. “They let you dress like that?” he asked, nudging his foot towards my patchwork maxi skirt, oversized hoodie and ratty Chucks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no uniform.” I said, pretending to straighten my skirt. “I’m sure my professors would appreciate my creativity, I made this skirt out of some old curtains my friend’s grandma was throwing away.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He arched a brow, looking at the skirt again and crossing his arms. “Well, you know how the Catholics are, all self-flagellating and bitter. I’m surprised they let you get away with that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They see me as a heathen altogether, so I’m pretty exempt from their wrath.” I said, a little shocked he remembered my school was Catholic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw the slightest hint of a smirk before he pulled a set of keys from his cleavage. “Going for a drive right now, you coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “No, thanks.” The answer took nearly everything in me, but it felt good to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll let you drive.” he said, dangling the keys as though I were Mishka. “I know we haven’t really done anything since you’ve been back, so I wanted us to take some time together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a license.” I said meekly, immediately embarrassed about the way I sounded. “Plus, I have stuff to do right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked me over, like he was trying to weigh whatever I was doing as something that was worthy of turning him down for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don't need a license. You have a couple working eyes and good reflexes, you'll do fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know how you feel about your cars. I don’t want anything to happen to them.” I said, using my time to make it look like I was telling him no for his sake, not my own. I know it was a weak, old move but who knows what had gone on. Sure, Da was definitely more alone these days, needing to get on a plane if he wanted to visit his wife or two oldest kids (and that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>if</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would even let him in when he arrived on their doorsteps). I still wasn’t sure if this was meant to be a dig back at me, him still playing me as the weak link and coming out on top. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da rolled his eyes. “I’m not letting you take out one of the McLarens or anything like that, it’ll be something easy.” he said, not letting me get another word in before he kept trying to plead his case with me. "Come on, when's the next time we're going to have this opportunity? I know how your sisters and your mother are going to hog you once you get here, this might be the only time we’ll be alone for a while."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had a point </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>he might have seemed just the slightest bit genuine. If this were a few years ago he would have been calling me weak, a disgrace and trying to marry me off all within less than five minutes. Plus, I would have been on the brink of tears, trying hard to hold myself together as he berated me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe we'd both changed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're sure you're not just using me as your getaway driver or something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please," he scoffed. "I wouldn't take this car to the drive thru, much less on a heist."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I noted the smile he had and I couldn't help but return it. "Where are we headed?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waved his hand in a vague gesture of whatever place he was thinking of. "You know shit your Dyadya says, it's not the destination - it's the journey."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked at him for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. “Yeah, sure. It’s been a while. Plus it’s nice out.” I said, setting down my bass and getting up off the floor. "Gimme a second, alright? Lemme just run to the bathroom and I'll meet you in the garage."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da grinned, “Don’t be late.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <a href="https://emojipedia.org/racing-car/">
    <span>🏎</span>
  </a>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I won’t lie and say the drive wasn’t nerve wracking. Da didn’t let me take out any of the super fancy cars because he wasn’t that stupid. Still, sitting next to him in the boxy leather interior of a damn near obsolete BMW made me kick myself for believing this drive of ours could be anything but relaxing. Contrary to what he told me he did seem to have a particular place in mind, giving me directions and making it so I avoided as many crowded roads as possible. It was after a while before I realized we were leaving the city, with every turn and long road taking us further from the bustle of the downtown metro area and closer to the somewhat quieter section of high rise apartment blocks and semi-suburbs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Save for those very same directions, Da didn’t speak to me much on the drive, allowing me to focus. Instead he occupied his time by hogging the rearview to adjust his makeup and looking out the window as if expecting to recognize someone as we sat and waited for the light to change.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost an hour had passed before the night had properly fallen and civilization had started to give way to rolling hills and sprawling, pothole-ridden roads. It’s not an unfamiliar site to either of us, the urban monstrosity of Dom Vlasti only goes so far before things become rustic - as if Dom Vlasti is just a suburb of the country itself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You drive good, surprised you don’t have your license yet.” he said and I had to avoid looking over at him in shock at his pseudo-complement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still have my permit, it’s expired though.” I said. “When I’m in Geneva Mum sometimes asks me to drive her places, so that’s where I learned.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw something akin to a smile coming from him out of my peripheral. “She still likes being driven around, eh? I spoiled her well enough.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have to smile, though I keep my eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead of me. There are a few other cars zipping by us in the opposite direction but otherwise we’re seemingly alone in our lane. “You talk to Dyadya and Nadia at all today?” I asked, seeing if he might have gotten any different information than me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, nothing really informative. Nadia sent me a few texts - some views from her hotel room and whatever. You know the usual.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll get a whole presentation’s worth once she goes on her Flight.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da laughed and turned to look at me. I pretended not to notice. “Where do you think she’s going?” he asked and I could only shrug, downshifting a bit as we rounded a corner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “I’m not sure.” I said. “Where do you go when you’ve seen everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The moon, I suppose.” he hummed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I tried not to smile, “If we have any cousins up there surely Nadia would be the one to try and make some trade deals and peace negotiations.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then fall in love with the Moon Price and write him love letters she never has the balls to actually send.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She still does that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da laughed. “She really wants you to think she’s grown up so much, but she never inherited my expertise with either sex. If someone so much as holds the door open for her she’s convinced she’s going to marry them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last time I talked to her she said she and Khalid were planning on spending New Year’s together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh of course they will,” he rolled his eyes. “Can’t wait to see how he gives her one peck on the cheek and she becomes consumed by ‘the fiery passions of carnal pleasure’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I giggled a bit, glancing at him incredulously. “You’ve been reading her romance novels?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Mothers, she sends them to you, too?” he asked, giving a big, exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know anything about literature, but I genuinely believe she should stick to speechwriting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I feigned shock. Nadia’s romance novels could be a bit hit or miss, but I always went out of my way to support her craft, even if said craft was a little melodramatic and cheesy.  “They're a little amateur but everyone gets their start somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da’s eyes cut sharply towards me, smirking. “And what of you, Beethoven? What have you been doing with that guitar of yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Album drops in December, tour starts in February.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I allowed to come to your live shows?” he asked. “Or will it be too packed with your groupies for me to so much as get into the nosebleeds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I snicker a little, “If you really want to come, I’ll save you a backstage pass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da laughed, telling me to turn left at a fork in the road before we fell into silence once more. The atmosphere was light and I felt almost at ease in his presence. If Da had really wanted to be nasty to me he would have done it. Yet, here he was, joking with me about my little sister’s romance novels and the puppy love she held for any man that matched the description of “tall, dark and handsome”. He could laugh at how Mum had taken to still living like a queen despite making her living as a Classics professor. He could joke about me drowning in affection from unending hordes of groupies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No malice, no second-guessing, just laughter, the purr of an old engine and the soft, fuzzy crackle of the radio. I could get used to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kill the engine, Ki. This is far enough.” he said and despite my shock of having him call me by my pet name, pulled over to the side of the road and cut the car off. There were no guard rails here and it seemed the road was cutting through huge swaths of farmland, only barely obscured by the thin line of trees that framed the road. Owls hooted and the wind gently swayed the trees. Da instructed me to hop out of the car and I did, tucking the keys into my pocket and stepping out. “What’s this place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, somewhere that I come to think.” he said, slamming the car door and crossing his arms as he seemed to be surveying the place. “This all used to be a military base back in the day, you know. They tore it down not too long before you were born and gave the land back to these people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I looked around, teetering on the balls of my feet and tucking my hands into my pockets. “That seems really cool.” I breathed, not really knowing what else to say. The farmhouses looked warm even from all the way over here, yellow lights in the windows making them look like something out of a storybook. “Shouldn’t there be like…a plaque or something? If it was a military base surely there’d be a marker here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da shook his head, going to lean against the hood of the war as he looked around. “Markers are for things that people want to remember. Eduardivna is something that people hear and try to push it out of their heads, nobody wants to remember it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My ears ticked up at the mention of that name and I went to go join him on the hood. “And you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How could I forget?” he said, though where I should have heard something like the pain or the fear he described in his words, his voice sounded like a purr - like he was trying to entice me into this story. “Left it before I was even your age, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You grew up here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could say that.” he muttered and I noted how he seemed to have scooted closer to me. “Even if I ended up going off and being as beautiful and grand as I am, I never forgot where I came from, never forgot that it was military discipline and ugly uniforms that made me.” he shuddered for effect, as if remembering wearing the same outfit every day was traumatic for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes widened and I turned from looking around at the scenery to face him properly. “So...you were in the military, you didn’t grow up here - you were a soldier.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wear it well, don’t I? It explains why I have such a penchant for tall boots.” he purred. “But I never put myself above it, even if I try to forget it sometimes, this place is in my bones, Ki. It’s what I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I nodded, looking him over, trying to imagine my Da having a commanding officer and sleeping in barracks and not being able to get an image to really come to mind. It couldn’t be true, not at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small smile curled at Da’s lips as he recalled a memory. “My commanding officer told us we were Shurshanov’s only hope - he said the Queen Shursha had carved us out of the soil herself and if we were to die on the battlefield, to her we would return. We were more Shurshan than the civilians because we were chosen, it was us that bled and died. We could never be separated from it, we could never forget who we were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bit my lip to keep from saying anything stupid or obvious, but ended up blurting out a: “he sounds intense” before recovering with a “How do you feel about that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da sighed, leaning back. “It makes me hate people who try to make it seem like they’re better than the people that they came from. I hate when they forget who made them what they really are. I can’t. Why should they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t think much before he moved from sitting next to me to pinning me to the hood of the car. “Da? What’s wrong with you?” I asked, my voice wavering and unable to mask my fear and confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ki? I always liked the fact that you were humble, you knew your place and you were obedient.” he hissed and I couldn’t deny how much </span>
  <em>
    <span>stronger</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was, how I nearly shrunk when we were this close despite being a few inches taller than him. “Now look, you’ve gone and made a mess of yourself. Probably whoring out in Germany and sucking off whoever’s willing to give you backstage passes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Da, I-I don’t understand.” I stammered, trying my best to push him away but he was adamant. “T-that isn’t true! I haven’t done anything like that!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ignored me. “I should have never let you take that Flight to Germany, should have kept you here with me. It’s all your fucking mother’s fault I let you go and now look at you - all high and mighty.” he held my hips in place, fastening me against the hood of the car. He stopped for a moment just to see my expression, the purple blush on my cheeks and the slide of emotions congealing in my eyes was enough to make him grin as he started hiking up my skirt. “Who was it then, hm?” he asked, his hands wandering between my legs. “What little Aryan beauty did you let in here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could hardly look him in the eyes, my head still reeling as it struggled to process the situation. Everything just seemed a little</span>
  <em>
    <span> too </span>
  </em>
  <span>normal and nice between us, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>I see this coming? I’d really been so stupid and gullible to think he’d treat me like a person for even a second. I wanted to fight him, to prove that I wasn’t just his punching bag anymore. I wanted to get back in the car and run him over but my body wouldn’t move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just been a few guys.” I murmured. “Just one or two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In four years? Wow.” he did seem genuinely shocked, as if he’d never heard of such a thing. I dared not give him any more details of how both the guys I’d been with were just close friends who I got to hook up with occasionally, not needing any more than that. The sex had been painful but good but I wouldn’t let Da know that. If I could just get him through with this power trip maybe he wouldn’t prod me further. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No girls?” he asked, I could only shake my head. He smirked, “At least you’re consistent, anyone would want that in a husband.” Another blow. How much more could I take? My thoughts began to turn to static as his hand traced the outside of my panties, feeling the bulge that my baggy skirt hid so well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gasped and reflexively  held myself to him as though I would crumble at any moment. “Maybe you haven’t grown as much as I thought, you’re acting like this is the first time anyone has touched you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My legs shook and I could only bury my face in his chest as his hand moved over my dick. My hips jerked up to meet him, making the car underneath us creak gently. Da was quiet for a minute, probably watching me and marveling as I made a fool out of myself. I could feel the little sparks erupting against my skin as he teased me and I barely tried to stifle the moan that slipped from my lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You see, Ki? You could use some humbling like this. Nice reminder of what home feels like, hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe as a way to not let the pleasure of being handled so roughly overtake me, I tried my best to think. Home never felt like this before, it was the very definition of bittersweet. On the one hand it was full of the people I loved and cared about the most, on the other those people were deeply flawed and volatile, lashing out because that was the only way they knew how to express themselves. Everything was familiar and therefore comfortable, but I’d lived most of my years as a shut-in, not going out for fear of the consequences. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now Da, seemingly kind and protected was doing this to me for Mother’s knew why. To get me to stay? No, impossible. If Da still wanted me to get married, there’s no way it would be to anyone in Shurshanov. To get me to like him? Da never cared if I didn’t like him. Why do such a thing? Why make me feel this way?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t help but cry out when he started rolling his finger around the head of my dick. I could feel the shuffling of his other hand underneath his short dress. I could hear the hum of his volts and immediately knew what he was doing but couldn’t help myself, rocking into his hand as if it </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> my first time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a few moments his hand was removed from under his dress and had burrowed its way under my hoodie, circling my nipple through the little bralette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hummed to himself as if he could feel just by touching it how nice it was.  “Good quality lace, Ki. Who bought this for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was breathless, surprised that he still wanted to ‘catch up’ with me whilst he was doing this. “I got it myself.” I whispered. “In Sicily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spoiled brat.” he laughed before moving away. “All this old junk you wear and yet you’re hiding nice stuff like this. You might still be as humble as I thought.” he said, but before I could answer him or do anything he’d flipped us around and pulled his dress up just enough to reveal his cock, heavy and purple between his legs with his knot straining at the base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My eyes widened and I involuntarily shuddered. Both the guys I’d been with were human, not too small but just enough to get a bit of burn going and make me feel good. Yet here Da was, thousands of years of conquest, experimentation and genetic modification just to give us huge dicks and the breeding capabilities of Catholic rabbits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gonna show you how to do something useful.” he said, his hand resting on the back of my head and pressing down, forcing me onto my knees. “My commanding officer taught me this when I was barely even your age, let’s hope you’re as fast a learner as I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew what to do, I’d done it before and even if I wasn’t great, the guys I was with didn’t complain too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I took the head into my mouth the best I could and listened to Da’s groan from above me, his glowing crimson eyes crossed with pleasure. His hand remained firm at the back of my head, not letting me adjust for a moment and continuing to push me down further. I tried to keep eye contact and relax my throat, the same advice Klem had given me. Da seemed to like it,  and kept stuffing my throat further. I moaned around him and hoped he didn’t notice my hands wandering underneath my clothes. I was stroking myself through my panties and playing with my nipples. I tried to convince myself to be strong and not do this, to just give Da what he wanted but some part of me liked it, drove me to leak all over the dirty pavement and moan debauchedly. I felt like every bit of self control had drained out from me and I could only focus on the cock between my lips and how badly I seemed to want it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good boy, Ki.” Da groaned, his head tilted towards the night sky. “Fuck, seems you do learn quicker than me. I’m jealous.” when I wasn’t too far from his knot his hips began to rock against my face. I moaned even though the stretch made my lips hurt. My whole body felt hot despite the slight chill and Da seemed not to notice. I tried ot ignore the embarrassing way my ass stuck out and how everything felt so good, better than the times I’d simply teased myself like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could hardly stop my movements even as I heard a chuckle rumble from above me. “Feels good, hm?” Da said, stifling his groan as if to show me how much more self control he had. “You like taking your Da down like this, that’s why you’re playing with yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled me off his cock before I could suck it some more and then I was being forced back up onto the hood of the car, my skirt pulled up and my panties gingerly pulled down, as though Da didn’t want to risk messing up the fine Sicilian lacework.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The combination of the cold air hitting my ass, the feeling of my cock straining against the bunched fabric of my skirt and the warm hood of the car was enough to make me moan. Even before when I’d been fully naked I never felt this exposed, but as Da began to spread my cheeks apart like he was admiring me I felt the urge to push back and give him more of a show despite the bashful heat flaring all over my body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look at you, Ki. You’re perfect.” he whispered. “Anyone would be lucky to have you.” and with that I felt the first wrigglings of a tongue against my hole and my mind immediately turned to mush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Da was relentless, not so much allowing me to pull away from him as he held me. I could feel the roll of mouth against my rim, the soft moans that vibrated his tongue and made me tremble as he continued torturing me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Da, Da </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>." I whispered, unsure of what exactly I was asking him for. He seemingly didn't need to be told again as I felt his tongue work faster. Though it was a bit of a struggle I managed to wiggle my hand underneath me and keep playing with myself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Such a whore for this." Da growled, spitting against my hole and drawing a moan out of me. "Nice and clean, not even any hair back here. Who were you saving this for?" I couldn't dignify him with an answer before he was driving back in, devouring me whole. My body seemed suspended between the pleasure he was giving me and the pleasure I was giving myself, I was unsure where to move towards or what to do. All I could do was take it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know I was already dripping cum onto the hood of his car and the lewd, wet noises he was making from behind me did nothing to stop the stream. He held tight to me, making sure I felt every bit of his tongue as he worked me over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Da, fuck. Please...please, I can’t…” I said, my voice fading as I tried to muffle it into my sweater. I couldn’t so much as move back to get more of him, he was giving me just enough to feel something but not nearly enough to get what I really needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I was ready he pulled off. I was only given a few moments to catch my breath and mourn the loss of his tongue before I heard a shuffling behind me and something heavier prodding at my hole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can take this, I know you can.” he whispered and he’s right, I could. I stretched to make room for him, my body not tearing like it did the first time when I underestimated the divine power of lube and foreplay. And while I could admit the squeeze was a tight one, the pleasure of being filled wasn’t lost on me. Da was nice enough to take his time getting inside, allowing me to stretch around his girth to the tune of a long, drawn out moan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take it.” I gasped between my crooning. “I’ll do good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I could practically feel his smirk against my back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The easing in didn’t last very long after that. Soon I was being roughly jerked against the hood of the car, the old thing creaking beneath us in protest. I couldn’t help the tiny moans and gasps that left me, as well as the embarrassing way I squeaked out Da’s name as he continued to push in me over and over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your hole still feels fresh, even if you’ve been used before.” he growled, leaning over me and just barely nipping at the pointed ends of my ears. “You’ll come to appreciate it, how this feels - if you haven’t already.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to tell him no, but what kind of a terrible liar would that make me? I was moaning, crying out and drooling onto the hood of his car, my only bit of agency being used to spread my legs wider and moan for more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Though eyes were screwed shut I could see the headlights of another car hurtling towards us in the dark and blowing its horn a few times before darting </span>
  <span>off into</span>
  <span> the night, leaving us to be blown back by the gust of wind in its wake. I wonder if they saw us rutting against each other, I wonder if they knew that it was His Majesty fucking his own son deep and hard against the hood of his vintage BMW. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder if they liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they saw you, Ki.” he whispered and with that I was getting hoisted up by the neck, my back held flush against him and my spine forming a torturous arch. Yet I didn’t care, every hammer inside was heaven, every growled insult was pure ecstasy. “Da, more. Please, fuck I can’t take it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t take what, Ki?” he purred, slowing down his trusts but doubling his intensity, allowing me to feel every inch of him including his knot which I could just feel was swollen to bursting. Whatever base instincts I had kicked in and I clenched around him, trying to keep him inside and more importantly - trying to draw out his knot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>Need it</em>.” was all I could muster, mewling and trying to push backwards despite the way he was holding me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need what?” he said, his thrusts ramming up against my prostate and his moans coming through all throaty and deep. We were both wrecking each other. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t think straight after that, just letting him keep going. I was a doll in his arms, just moved wherever he needed me to be, made to take and be filled without care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I loved it, I hated myself for loving it. I hated it and I should have hated him, but something felt right. It was as if this was inevitable, as if this type of thing between us was a long time in the making. I could feel his knot swelling to burst and I moaned, the harsh slap of his hips against my ass making it even harder to focus on not cumming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his hand came to rest on my dick, stroking and tugging I couldn’t take it. I could’ve sworn I called him Fedya when I came but I don't know, my knot finally being released was the only thing I could think of. My memory turned to static at that point, my higher functioning seemingly shutting down for favor of convulsing and clenching around him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be my courtesan, Ki. I’ll keep you here. You’ll never want for anything, you’ll never need to lift a finger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I think when I mewled '<em>please'</em> I wanted to believe he was saying those things out of true affection and not the need to control something that had clearly escaped him but I wasn’t really in the position to be questioning people’s motivations.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a blur once his knot locked itself inside me. His teeth found the nape of my neck and bit down as if to stifle a groan that would most definitely wake up the people in the distant farm house. I moaned at that as well, pushing back feebly as he emptied into me and rope after rope of his cum painted my inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It might have just been the bliss or the roar of blood in my ears, but I could only think of how (at least so far) it was the best orgasm of my life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And probably his, but who really knows?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know how long I laid there, my cum splattering the metal beneath me, my Da’s knot steadily deflating and a couple more cars rushing past us. I could only weakly push my head back as he started to run his fingers through my hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna run off anymore, hm?” he whispered, leaning down again so I could feel his words as they ghosted against my ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I was weak, I wasn’t in my right mind - my body was still trembling with the force of how hard I came. I shouldn’t have been asked such a heavy question, especially because given my predicament - I couldn’t be safely counted on to answer it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N-no, Da. I won’t run. I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He patted my head like he would one of the dogs and I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I’m so proud of you, Ki. I know you would make the right choice. I know you wouldn’t run from me with all those silly dreams of yours, you’ll stay, right? You’ll be mine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I knew that talk like this was dangerous. Post-coital bliss can fog the mind so much and make you do things you regret, promise things you can’t keep - make you leave behind things or people you’d rather hold onto.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always yours.” I whispered and then I felt him turn my head and kiss me. It was light but I could taste wine coolers on his breath, no cigarettes at all and part of me was happy he’d committed to getting off of nicotine by the time Nadia was eighteen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was the silent for us to not tell anyone before he pulled out, my hole clenching in search for his knot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got in the car first, starting the engine as if telling me to hurry up before he left me to walk home. I shakily lifted myself off the hood, pulling my panties up and shuffling into the passenger’s seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Florentushka</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My ears perked straight up, it was an old name, one only he had called me and one he hadn’t used since I was maybe five before Mum’s use of Ki simply stuck. It was almost like something from a dead language, only known by those who had it engraved in their bones. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I said I love you back, but I can’t trust my memory enough to know if I meant it. Da drove home and though I could only sit partially on my butt and my head was pounding, the gentle rocking of the car managed to lull me into a dreamless sleep, my thoughts suffocating under the weight of my slumber.  </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Art done by Max Kennedy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Go check out @maxkennedy24 on IG! Hope you enjoy!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>https://www.dropbox.com/s/naxaag1tqcypc64/comm07.jpeg?dl=0</p>
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